Thorius Maximus: Grave Consequences
by saggycheeks
Summary: Thorius Maximus has built a reputation for himself as a mercenary. His past work, however, doesn't leave him with a shortage of enemies. Killed by a mysterious figure for his past deeds, he is resurrected by an old woman. He doesn't know why the old woman is so interested in him, but he will take this chance to get revenge on his killer.
1. Prologue

"How do you like the feel of my dagger, Nord?" Thorius was paralyzed by the feeling of cold steel in his back. His two handed axe lay on the ground in front of him just a few feet away. It might as well have been miles away for all the good it did him now. He lies prone on some grass, a figure on top of him, pinning him to the ground. The figure had intertwined his legs with Thorius' to keep them from moving. The figure also had his left arm holding Thorius' left arm behind is back, while his right hand held the dagger. It was night time, but the full moon lit up the area quite well. There was nothing around them save for some hills and small critters. The figure had his face next to Thorius'. "You have been making quite the name for yourself, Nord. You've gotten a lot of attention in certain circles. You've certainly made a lot of friends. My employer, however, is not among those friends." The figure twisted the blade, causing a sharp pain the shoot through Thorius' back. Thorius involuntarily jumped, arching his back. The figure used his weight to push him back to the ground. "Did that hurt? I thought Nords were strong warriors. Where's your legendary resistance to pain now, Nord?"

Thorius turned his head slightly and clenched his teeth. "You sure like to hear yourself talk, don't you!"

The figure chuckled quietly. "And here I thought we were becoming such good friends!" The figure shifted slightly. "You insult me, Nord. Maybe I should teach you some respect." The figure drew the knife out of the wound most of the way, leaving the tip still inside. He angled the blade, pointing the tip towards Thorius' shoulders instead of straight down. He plunged the blade in again with full force. Thorius grunted loudly. He could feel the blood from the wound dripping down his back and around his waist. He started feeling cold. The grass dug into his face as he was pinned down. He tried to move his legs, but they were held firmly. He tried with his right arm to grab the figure. The figure let go of the knife, sat up slightly and delivered a blow to Thorius' head with his elbow. The blow caused Thorius' head to spin.

The figure grabbed the knife again put his head close to Thorius'. "I think it's about time I took my leave. I _do_ have other contracts you know." The figure shifted his weight to his left side. "Goodbye, Nord; it was fun while it lasted." Thorius started breathing heavily, knowing this was his day to die. The figure sat up and pulled the knife out slowly, relishing in the feel of flesh meeting the blade. With the blade fully removed, he brought it to eye level. He examined the blade, turning it over slowly several times. He then grinned, looked at Thorius and leaned back down to his ear. "This is really going to hurt," he said.


	2. Chapter 1

An old Breton woman sat in front of a small cauldron over a fire. Her hair was long and matted. It came down to shoulder height, but came out sideways about as far as her shoulders were wide. Her clothes were but tattered rags just hanging off of her. Her eyes, a bright blue, kept a watchful eye on the pot. She grabbed a wooden spoon on a nearby table and got up. She stirred the contents carefully. This had to be done just right or the time she spent preparing this concoction would be wasted. Her face was dirty and weathered. She showed her age in her face, with the various creases that identified significant points in her life. She lived in a decently sized shack. There was enough room for a single bed, table and fireplace. The table was small and had a single candle burning in the middle. It also had a wooden bowl and small spoon set on it. It was located to the right of the fireplace. A chair was pushed in to the table as well. Both were wooden, old and looked like they were about to fall apart. The stool she sat on was the same way. She heard a cough behind her.

She turned to look at her bed. It was a simple bed, made of wood. It had straw to sleep on and cloth to cover the straw. A Nord, barely alive, lies on the bed. His breathing is labored and his body is weak. His skin is pale and his lips are blue. He was covered with a deer pelt to keep him warm. She turned her attention back to the cauldron. The liquid inside was a yellow-orange color. It had small chunks of unidentifiable bits in it and smelled like troll urine. The smell of it filled the shack. The mixture began to bubble slowly, and the color gradually changed to a pale yellow. She got up and walked to some shelves to the left of the fireplace. The shelves were full of bottles; each one containing a plant, animal part or insect. She pointed with her right index finger at the first bottle on a shelf and ran her hand down the row of bottles. She stopped at a bottle that contained some blue butterflies. Grabbing the bottle, she hobbled back to the fireplace. She sat down on her stool, opened the bottle and grabbed a single butterfly by its wings with her left hand. She closed the bottle and set it aside on the table. Gripping the insect by the body with her right hand, she tore off its wings and tossed the body to the ground. She got up and put her hands over the cauldron. She rolled the wings in her hand and dropped them in before wiping her hands over the mixture.

The mixture turned a slight green. She took the bowl off the table and grabbed the larger spoon. She stirred the concoction for a bit and spooned some into the bowl. Grabbing the stool and the smaller spoon off the table, she scurried over to the Nord lying in her bed. His eyes were closed and his dirty hair ran along the sides of his face. He was breathing heavily through his mouth. She sat on the stool and spooned up a small bit of liquid into his mouth. He choked slightly, but swallowed it. She sat there for what seemed like an hour slowly feeding him her special brew. After he swallowed the last bit, she put the bowl on the floor and looked at him carefully. The color was already starting to return to his skin and his lips were returning to normal. "You're a strong one, Thorius," She said. "But you'll need more than strength in the coming days." She put her hand on his forehead. "Rest now, young one. You'll need your strength." Thorius' breathing steadied.

For weeks, the old woman had looked after Thorius. She fed him and cared for him like a mother would her child. The powerful potion she had made for him was working, but time was needed for his recovery. Luckily, the old lady had a simple daily ritual that took plenty of time. She would wake and go tend to some chickens she kept outside of her shack. She would get water from a nearby stream and gather vegetables she grew nearby. After making herself breakfast, she would meditate. She sat, for hours, motionless in front of the fireplace. She would center herself for the rest of her work later in the day. During one particular meditation, however, she noticed her bed stirring. She turned around and looked to see Thorius sitting up. "It's about time you woke up," She said. Thorius' head was spinning. He put his arms behind him to brace himself up in the bed.

"Where . . . am I?"

"You're in a safe place for now," The old woman answered. "Your wounds were pretty bad, but they have mostly healed by now. Do you remember anything about what happened?" Thorius sat up fully and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He placed both hands on the edge of the bed and looked down. He was dressed in a simple shirt and pants.

Thorius scowled and shot a look at the old woman. "Where're my belongings, wench?"

She crossed her arms and scowled back at him. "They're in a safe place. But first you need to tell me what you remember. I saved your life; don't forget this."

"I owe you nothing, you . . ."

The old woman stood up quickly and pointed at Thorius with her right hand. Her left hand was at her side, clenched hard into a fist. "Choose your next words carefully, Nord!" The room darkened and the sound of wood creaking could be heard from all around as the woman stared at Thorius. Her facial expression showed anger not unlike the fury of a dremora lord after being kicked in the crotch. Shadows ran up and down the walls as the light seemed to bleed out of the room. High pitched whines could be heard coming from a seemingly long distance. "Do not take me for some haggard old mule! I brought you back, Nord! And I can take you away just as easily!"

Thorius looked around the room as a fear he had not felt in a long time gripped him. His face bore a panicked look. The old woman noticed this and her anger subsided. Her face returned to normal and the light slowly came back into the room. She exhaled a sigh and sat back down. "Now, are you going to tell me what happened?" Thorius gathered his wits and calmed himself. He looked at her blankly and started talking.

"The last thing I remember, I was being attacked. He was strong and quick," He said.

"Who attacked you?"

"I . . . don't know." He shifted his eyes downward. "I don't remember how I got attacked either." He put a hand on his head. "I just remember he had me on the ground. I should be _dead_."

"You _were_."

Thorius put his hand down and raised his eyes quickly, looking at the old woman. "What?"

The old woman stood up slowly and joined her hands in front of her. "Thorius, you died after that attack." She slowly started walking towards him. "It was no small task to bring you back. Arkay was determined to see you pass. He must have wanted it badly." She sat down on the bed next to him, looked him in the eye and put her hand on the small of his back. "I, however, brought you back. You are important, Thorius; more important than you know."

Thorius' face looked like it was carved in stone. "What do you want with me," he asked.

She looked at him in the eye for several seconds. She slowly smiled at him. "I want you to have your revenge." Thorius had a look of confusion on his face. He couldn't believe this was all she wanted. Somehow, though, he felt more at ease. He could feel warmth coming from her hand. The old woman removed her hand and stood up with a sigh, walking towards her stool.

"What are you hiding, woman?"

The old woman chuckled, stopped and turned around. "In due time, Thorius. For now, I need to make some food. Help an old woman out, won't you?"

Thorius and the old woman prepared a meal. Thorius couldn't help but think about what it was this old woman really wanted. Throughout the day, he helped her with menial labor. His strength came back slowly, but he was nowhere near as strong as he was before. That night, after supper, Thorius decided he had enough. They were both sitting at the table next to the fireplace. Thorius bore a look of annoyance. "Where're my belongings?"

She smiled. "They're in a safe place. I will give them to you in the morning. No doubt you want to leave tomorrow."

Thorius smirked and stared into space. "I'm going to find the one who attacked me, rip his heart out, and show it to him before he dies."

"As you should," She replied. "I have something that might help you in your quest. This was in your satchel when I found you." She reached into a pocket and pulled out a rolled up piece of paper. She handed it to Thorius. Thorius grabbed it quickly.

Thorius looked more pissed off than usual. "You dare go through my belongings," he asked. The old woman rolled her eyes. He unrolled the paper carefully. It was a note, written in his handwriting. A single word was written on the paper. Thorius scowled at the paper. "Solitude," he said. He looked up at the woman. She was looking at him and smiling. Thorius was never a fan of Solitude. He made more enemies there than he could count. However, none of them were as skilled in stealth as his attacker. Going back meant sticking out his neck, but he didn't care if he had to wade through a moat of fire. This was the only lead he had for finding his attacker and he was going to take it.

"We should rest now. You'll leave at dawn," said the old woman.

That night, Thorius dreamt of his attack. The figure had him pinned to the ground and stabbed him mercilessly. Never stopping, never wavering. The pain from each stab ran through his entire body. He screamed out in pain, but no one was around to help him. The figure laughed maniacally as he continued his work. After what seemed to be an eternity of pain, he finally grabbed Thorius by the hair and pulled his head back. The knife was slipped in front of his throat as the figure pushed his head back to the ground. The figure sawed away with the knife at Thorius' throat. Thorius coughed and choked on the blood running from his neck. He tried to scream, but all he could do was gargle on his own blood.

Thorius awoke in a cold sweat. This hasn't happened to him in a long time; since he was a child. "Bad dream?" The old woman asked. She had a smirk on her face as she was stirring the cauldron over the fire. "Your things are next to your bed. I'm finishing up a special potion for you. Dawn will break soon, so you should get dressed."

He got out of the bed and felt completely rejuvenated. He saw his fur armor, bracers, boots and satchel next to the bed and put them on. After dressing, he looked over at his steel two handed axe. He grabbed it and for the first time in what felt like a century, he held his axe. The feeling of its cold steel on his hands pleased him. He looked over at the old woman, who had filled a bottle with the strange concoction she was brewing. "I have no need for your magic, witch." He said in a belittling tone.

She gave him a look that pierced his soul. "Do not test me, Nord. I brought you back. You are mine now, and you will do as I command. Do I need to remind you of this?"

There was something about this woman that Thorius knew he shouldn't mess with. He had killed numerous witches in the past but he has never been fazed by them before. The woman walked over to him and handed him the bottle. "What is this? It smells like a rotting giant," he said.

She smirked at him. "It'll put some hair on your chest." She slapped his butt and walked toward the cauldron. Thorius was less than pleased. "Use it when your strength is not enough. Now, you should be going if you intend on reaching Solitude any time soon. Just walk north and you'll find your way." She had her full attention on the cauldron. He opened his satchel and put the bottle inside. Putting his axe on his back, he turned to leave the shack. "One more thing, Thorius." The old woman turned around and looked at him with a stare that could cut through stone. "This journey will push you to your limits. Your strength alone will not be enough to make you succeed. If you fail . . ." Her face darkened. ". . . Death will be the least of your worries. Now, _go_." She returned her attention to the cauldron.

Thorius left the shack and went outside. For some reason, what the old woman said stayed with him. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Usually, he didn't worry about such trivial things as life and death. He started north, toward Solitude. The words of the old woman echoed in his mind. _You are important, Thorius; more important than you know._ He shook off the strange feeling and kept walking. He was going to need all of his wits together when he arrived at Solitude.


	3. Chapter 2

Thorius felt as if a huge weight had been lifted after he left the old woman's shack. He was glad to be away from that witch. He deliberately left without checking his supplies. The less influence the witch had over him, the better. After years of mercenary work, he had learned how to survive with next to nothing anyway. He stopped and found a big flat rock nearby to sit on so he could see exactly what he had to work with. In his satchel he had that foul potion and a sizeable bladder for holding water. He raised an eyebrow and grabbed the bladder. "It shouldn't be this full," he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a leather sheathe in his satchel. He dropped the water bladder and pulled out a sheathed dagger. Thorius looked at it in his hand for a moment. He put a hand on the side of his hip, feeling around. Thorius leaned his head back slightly and exhaled. "How could I forget my _dagger_," he thought. He attached the sheath to his hip and grabbed the water, opening it. He put the bladder up to his nose, sniffed it and then took a drink. He put the bladder in his satchel and got up. It was still morning, and he positioned himself so the sun was on his right. He reached a hand behind his back to feel for his axe. He smirked as he felt the steel. He then moved his hand to his dagger, and the other hand to his satchel. "Everything's here," he thought. He started walking forward to the north with a clear head.

As he walked, he knew he would need to eat at some point to keep his strength up. The immediate area was mostly hills and was home to several small critters such as rabbits. There's never a shortage of wolves in Skyrim either and they could be eaten in a pinch. However, carnivore meat always left a bad taste in Thorius' mouth. He spotted a rabbit chewing on some grass at the base of a hill. The rabbit was a considerable distance away and didn't see Thorius yet. Thorius was downwind from the rabbit, so he knew he had a good chance for some tasty meat. He bent his knees, lowering his profile so he could sneak up on the animal. Step by step, he quietly got closer to his dinner. His eyes were locked on the creature. All his attention was focused on this one target. As he slowly and quietly moved closer, he unsheathed his dagger. He turned it around and grabbed the blade between his thumb and forefinger. As he got closer to the rabbit, he brought the dagger up over his shoulder and next to his ear. The rabbit hopped forward twice and Thorius froze. The rabbit turned its head and looked around. A female voice could be heard in the distance. "Please, don't hurt her!"

The loud yell frightened the rabbit causing it to hop quickly away. Thorius grimaced at the lost opportunity. He lowered his arm, sheathed the dagger and stood up. The yell had come from over the hill. He walked up to the crest of the hill and crouched immediately. There was a small camp at the base of the hill. Three bedrolls were next to a fire pit. Three brown horses were tied up not far from the bedding. There were three males standing next to the camp site. A Dark Elf, to the left, dressed in fur armor was holding a female Nord with a knife to her throat. He had a medium build and his face showed a near toothless grin, even from this distance. His hair was short and black. The woman was dressed in a simple dress and had red hair down to her shoulder. Her hands were bound behind her back. To the right, there was a scrawny looking Nord. He held a Nord girl in place, with bound hands and a knife at her throat as well. The scrawny Nord was dressed in fur and had short blonde hair. His face was covered in dirt. The Nord girl had a simple dress on and had long red hair that went to about the middle of her back. She couldn't have been older than about twelve. The last male, presumably the leader, was a seemingly muscled Nord who wore iron armor with a sword and shield on his back. He had purple war paint on his face and shoulder-length dirty-blonde hair. He stood facing the woman with his arm outstretched and a finger pointing at her. His face held a scowl.

"You owe me coin, woman! I want what's owed to me," the leader said.

The woman's face was wracked with worry. "Please, I'll have your money soon," she said.

The leader put his hand down and walked closer to the woman. "Do you think you can steal from me and just walk away?" He stopped just in front of her and grabbed her hair; pulling it tight. He leaned in closely and she turned her head. "Since you don't have any coin for me, maybe I should take something else of value." He turned his head to the side and looked at her daughter. The woman looked at him and saw where he was looking. He turned his head back and looked her in the eye before letting go of her hair. He leaned back, slowly smiling.

Her face wore a look of dread. "No, please," she said. She turned her head to look at her daughter. Her daughters face was scrunched up with tears running down her cheeks. "Do what you will to me, but don't hurt her!" She turned her head back facing the leader. She shook her head up and down. "I'll find a way to pay you, I swear!"

The leaders' smile had turned to a smirk. He slowly turned and walked toward the little girl. "She could fetch some considerable coin on certain markets."

The scrawny Nord put his hand in front of his face and chuckled loudly. "A considerable amount indeed," he said. He stared at the woman with a grin while he lowered his hand from his mouth and grabbed the girl's chest. The girl whimpered.

Thorius had seen enough. They hadn't noticed him on top of the hill, so he stood up and made his way down. He walked with authority toward the campsite.

The Dark Elf turned his head and saw Thorius coming down the hill. He looked over at the leader. "Boss! We got a visitor," he said.

The leader turned toward Thorius. He moved so he was between his two men. His face went blank. He raised his right hand with his palm facing Thorius. "This is none of your business, brother," he said. "Move along and there won't be any trouble."

Thorius looked at him with disgust. "You threaten a woman and her child with violence and expect me to leave it be. You're no brother of mine." Thorius was at the bottom of the hill, still walking towards the leader.

The leader put his arm down. "If that's the way you want it, you can have it." He drew his sword and shield while he smirked. "I'm going to enjoy this."

Thorius continued walking toward the leader while he drew his axe. He held it across his chest with both hands. As he was walking forward, the leader bent his knees and waist while holding his shield forward. He started running at full speed towards Thorius. Thorius stepped to the side just as they were about to collide. He angled his axe downward and put the head of his axe into the ground in front of the leader, causing him to trip. The leader fell into the ground shield first and slid a few feet. Thorius faced the leader and planted the head of his axe in the ground In front of him, leaning on the handle. His back was toward the Elf and scrawny Nord. He looked at the leader calmly. "Did you enjoy _that_?"

The leader coughed as he got up. He shook his head slightly, trying to recover from the fall. "Ah, an aspiring jester I presume? I can work with that," the leader said. He stood up straight and brought his sword and shield to bear. Thorius lifted his axe and held it across his chest. The leader started to circle Thorius. Thorius moved with him. The leader raised his sword and grunted as he moved in, swinging at Thorius. The sword hit the axe handle, making it reverberate. The leader went in again to deliver a volley of blows. He smoothly transitioned from the end of one blow to the beginning of another. Each blow bounced off the head or handle of Thorius' axe. After blocking several blows, the sword came down again. Only this time Thorius thrust his axe away from his chest when the blade hit. The sword bounced back and the leader's defense had been left wide open.

Thorius brought his axe back slightly and swung it forward with all his might. The leader quickly moved the shield to block the blow, but couldn't set his footing. The force of the impact knocked him down on his butt. Thorius set up for another swing and brought his axe down again. This time, the leader brought his legs in and blocked the blow solidly with the shield. Thorius took this time to leave no opening for the leader. He delivered blow after blow; each one blocked by the shield.

The woman was watching the fight and starting smiling with an excited look on her face. "Kill the bastard," she shouted.

The Dark Elf pressed the dagger tighter against her throat. He clenched his teeth as he lowered his head to her ear. "Stay _silent_," he said.

After blocking a blow with his shield, the leader extended his leg and kicked Thorius in the shin. Thorius was in mid swing and got knocked off balance from the attack. He took a couple small steps backward. This allowed enough time for the leader to get on his feet. Thorius stepped forward, planted his feet firmly and raised his axe again. He swung it at the leader with all his might. The leader blocked the blow with his shield and thrust his sword forward. Thorius felt the shockwave of the impact bounce back through his axe. The leader grunted as he took the blow, being knocked back in the process. He took two steps backward slowly and dropped his shield. It had a large cut in it from the axe head. The leader's face tightened as he held his arm out forward and to the side, favoring it. Thorius was breathing heavily as he held his axe. He felt something running down his arm and turned his head to look. The sword had given him a cut across his elbow joint. Blood trickled down his arm and dripped from his hand.

The leader was panting as he smiled. "Looks like . . . I got you," he said.

Thorius grinned as he steadied his breathing. "Looks like I got you better." Thorius pointed at the leader's arm. "Your arm is broken," he said.

The leader laughed. "I won't . . . make the same mistake twice."

He raised his sword and ran towards Thorius. The Elf and scrawny Nord cheered. The leader started a volley of blows that were easily blocked. The leader was sweating and breathing heavily. Each impact of his sword was weaker than the last. Thorius swung his axe and hit the sword mid swing. The leader lost his grip and the sword flew off to the side. The leader watched the sword land and slide on the ground. He quickly looked back at Thorius with surprise on his face. Thorius thrust his axe into the leader's chest, causing him to fall on his back. The leader cried out in pain, face clenched, and held his broken arm.

The mother turned her head toward her daughter. "Shut your eyes, baby!" The daughter squeezed her eyes shut.

Thorius walked over to the leader and brought the axe up over his head. He brought the axe down into the leader's face. His body shook violently as blood poured out of the wound. Thorius pulled the axe out and turned around to face the Dark Elf and the scrawny Nord. He held his axe across his chest, blood dripping from the blade. The leader's body twitched behind him.

The scrawny Nord's eyes were wide and he was shaking. "D-d-don't come any closer," he said. The daughter opened her eyes and saw the blood covered axe. She screamed and started struggling with her captor. The scrawny Nord held the blade tighter to her throat, trying to control her. His head was pointed downward, looking at her. "Stop," he commanded. Thorius looked over at the Dark Elf, whose attention was on the scrawny Nord. Thorius held his axe near the head with one hand as he unsheathed his dagger. He tossed the dagger in the air, flipping it around so it landed with the blade in his hand. He brought the dagger up over his shoulder and threw it forward. The scrawny Nord looked up to see a dagger coming at him. His eyes locked on the flipping blade. The blade embedded itself in his forehead. The girl screamed as she fell to the ground with him.

The Dark Elf's mouth was wide open. He quickly turned his head toward Thorius, who was running full speed toward him, axe at the ready. The Dark Elf let go of the woman and put his hands up. The woman fell down just as Thorius took a swing. The axe penetrated the Elf's neck, decapitating him. The body fell quickly and blood poured from his neck. The Dark Elf's right leg twitched rhythmically. The woman turned around and looked at the corpse. She then looked at Thorius, who was steadying his breathing and looking at the new corpse. Her mouth was open slightly. She turned to look toward her daughter, who was still lying next to the scrawny Nord. Thorius turned his head toward the woman and looked at her for a moment. He walked over, kneeled down and used his axe to cut her hands free. He then got up, went back over to the Dark Elf and started going through his pockets. The woman struggled to get up and ran over to her daughter. Her face turned white when she got there.

She knelt down on both knees next to her daughter. The mother started tearing up and a lump began to form in her throat. "Oh, baby," she said. The daughter's throat had been cut by the dagger; almost halfway through her neck. The mother turned around to Thorius, tears running from her eyes. "HELP ME," she screamed. She turned back to her daughter. Thorius ran over to the mother and saw the daughter. He knelt down and examined her neck as the mother brushed her daughter's hair with her hand.

"The cut is too deep," he said. "There's nothing I can do."

The woman looked at him, her eyes were swelling and her face was turning red. Tears were dripping from her cheeks. "Do something! Anything!" Thorius looked at the ground with a face carved in stone. She sobbed and looked back at her daughter who was staring her in the eye. She put one arm on the ground to steady her and used the other to stroke the girl's face. The girl was choking on her own blood. The mother cried harder. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. . . ."

The daughter stopped choking and went limp. The mother stared in shock at her little girl. She used both hands to shake her slightly. "Baby?" She shook her harder. "Baby!" She sat up and put both hands over her mouth while she whined. Her hands moved from her mouth to her daughter as she picked up her daughter's lifeless corpse and held it tight. She rocked back and forth with the body. Her daughter's blood drenched her dress. Thorius stood up. He stared at the mother holding her dead child and swallowed hard. He turned and forced himself to walk toward the horses. Each horse had supplies on its back, behind the saddle. Thorius went up to a horse, looking through the supplies. There was plenty of food, water and coin. That was all he needed to know as he untied the horse.

Thorius turned around with the horse in tow. The mother had dropped her dead daughter and was knelt next to the scrawny Nord's body. She picked up the dagger that killed her daughter and brought it to eye level. She stood up, staring at the dagger. She turned towards Thorius and lowered the dagger to her side. Her eyes were still swollen from crying, but the expression on her face was filled with hate. She held the dagger in a tightly clenched fist. "You killed my baby," she said, her voice cracking.

"You don't want to . . . . "

"Don't want to _what," _she asked. "You took _everything_ from me! The only thing that mattered in my . . . ." She put her free hand over her mouth and tilted her head downward. Her eyes clenched shut. Thorius took a step toward her. She snapped her head up, stared at Thorius and put her hand back to her side. Both fists were clenched hard. "I HAVE NOTHING!"

He stepped back and had a calm look on his face. "This won't bring your daughter back," he said.

She turned her head and looked at her daughter, then turned the rest of her body. Her shoulders lowered and she hung her head low. "You're right," she said. She raised her head and turned toward Thorius. She raised her free hand and pointed at him. "But all of this is on _you._" She lowered her free hand and brought the dagger up to her neck.

Thorius stepped forward and reached out with his hand. "No!"

The woman stabbed her throat with the blade and pulled it sideways. Blood ran down the front of her dress as she fell to the ground. Thorius dropped his hand to his side, turned around and hung is head low. He stood there, motionless. After a while, he turned around and walked to the scrawny Nord. He pulled his dagger out of the Nord's head and walked back to his horse.

He rode north for an unknown time. He reached a road and checked a sign post. Solitude wasn't far. He followed the road all night and into the morning. He didn't want to stop and have time to think about what had happened at that camp. He didn't want to think about the little girl and her mother who might still be alive if he had done things differently. He definitely didn't want to sleep and dream about his attacker or the camp. His chest tightened. He forced himself to think about Solitude. His revenge is the only thing that matters now.

He reached Dragon Bridge and crossed the Karth River. After he crossed, he looked up to the north. He could see the stronghold in the distance. Perched on the edge of a mountain, overlooking the Karth River was Solitude. Thorius wanted to smile as he made his way toward it. Now, he could finally get some answers.


End file.
